


The Story of How Stiles Stilinski Lost his Mind (And How it’s all Lydias Fault)

by dropdeadadorable



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-22
Updated: 2012-09-22
Packaged: 2017-11-14 20:22:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/519168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dropdeadadorable/pseuds/dropdeadadorable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Scott is a shitty best friend, Jackson sucks, Lydia is a terrible, evil force of nature, Derek doesn't talk much, Erica makes an appearance, and every single human being is working to make Stiles life a living hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Story of How Stiles Stilinski Lost his Mind (And How it’s all Lydias Fault)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnakarayaSlytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnakarayaSlytherin/gifts).



> This is fic that I wrote for Veronica as a birthday gift. (Happy birthday darling!) It's my first fic of this fandom, and dear God, it's actually the first one, I think, that has an actual plot and I've posted online. *Hides in corner.* But yeah anyway, it's ridiculous, and fluffy, and has no real angst content whatsoever. Please enjoy!

1

So, see, here’s the thing. College is hard, okay? Like, Stiles never thought that it would be as hard to become a high school teacher as it is. Because, let’s be honest here, not many people want to become high school teachers, so one would assume that America wouldn’t make it difficult for those crazy few who decided they wanted to live some of the worst years of their life over and over again. Yeah… No.

(To be completely honest, Stiles isn’t even sure he wants to be a high school teacher, why he wants to go back there. He suspects the idea is mostly to be blamed on his inner masochist. And Lydia. Lydia for sure had something to do with it, as she almost always has something to do with his bad ideas.)

But anyway, the bottom line here is that college is hard to begin with. And it would be just Stiles luck that he got stuck with Jackson for a roommate, of all people. Dude’s not only an asshole, but he’s an asshole that is regularly getting laid, and rubbing it in Stiles face by claiming their room every time Stiles needs a place to study.

Scott, although a very good friend when it comes to certain things, really sucks at assisting Stiles in his time of need.

It is the mixture of these issues that somehow led to Stiles somehow finding his way to Hale Books, three blocks and a ten minute walk from his dorm room. It’s not the kind of place he would usually go to in this sort of a situation, but it’s quiet and smells like coffee and pastries because of the little café thing they have in the back, and there are plushy armchairs in the back.

There is also a very hot guy behind the register who may or may not be exactly Stiles type. Maybe

2

So see, there’s this thing that Stiles does, where he focuses on one person. It typically ends in buckets of problems for him, obviously, but he can’t help it.

Because some people are just so interesting. There’s something about them, about the way they style their hair, maybe, or how they dress, or the book he sees them carrying around. Lydia was the source of his affections for a while, before he realized she was really into Jackson and not into him at all and managed to dig himself out of that hole. Mostly, at least.

Remember that hot register guy behind the register at Hale Books? Yeah, he may have sort of started focusing on that guy, who he has dubbed Mr. McGrumps for his constant frown, because Stiles has never actually gotten a book from the place, nor has he been able to work up the guts to walk up the counter and strike up a conversation, so he therefore has never read the guys nametag, and doesn’t know his name.

There are two things Stiles is lacking, and those things are guts and common sense.

So instead he spends most of his time sitting behind the bookshelves all stealth like watching Mr. McGrumps, who, as much as he can figure, likes classic literature where the author whines a lot and black coffee.

(Also, working out, apparently. Jesus Christ the man has got some pectorals on him.)

“You have a problem, Stiles.” Everyone’s eating dinner at the local diner, including Jackson, because Lydia dragged him along. The place is a hole-in-the-wall that’s loud, dirty, pretty much everything Hale Books isn’t, and they eat there about once a week. Lydia’s smirking at him from across the table.

He huffs. “It’s not a problem. I would not define this as a problem.”

“What would you define a problem as, then,” Scott asks, shoveling handfuls of French fries slathered in ketchup into his mouth, talking around his food. It’s really gross, by the way, Stiles still has no idea why they’re friends. 

“A problem is something that’s… problematic. This isn’t problematic in the least. I mean, it doesn’t cause me any problems. So it’s not a problem. Yeah.” That is Stiles logic and he is sticking to it. Lydia doesn’t look very entertained.

“It’s a problem for me, with you talking about it all the time,” Jackson mutters, before giving out a yelp as Allison kicks him under the table.

“You should ask him out, Stiles. If it’s not a problem, I mean,” Allison says, smiling kindly and snagging some of Scott’s food. Stiles actually likes Allison. She’s totally the kind of girl that’s perfect for Scott, he just wished they were a little less adorable about it. It makes his whole not-problem involving Mr. McGrumps sting a little bit more.

“Well, I’m not going to do that, Allison. I mean, if we had a scale of attractive people, and one was like really unattractive, and ten was Hollywood, photo shopped good looking, I would be a seven or eight, yeah, I mean, I’m a catch, but this guy? This guy is like a 15. He’s a fucking Adonis in really well-fitting leather jackets. I mean, he’s up there with Scarlett Johansson and that one guy from X-Men.”

“You mean James McAvoy, the british one?” Scott volunteers.

“No man, the rugged one who played Magneto.”

“Michael Fassbender?”

“That’s the guy.”

Jackson clunks his head on the table. “Why am I here? You’re all a bunch of freaks.”

Lydia is the one who kicks him this time. Girl wears really pointy shoes, if the muffled screech Jackson lets out is anything to go by.

3

If you can believe it, Stiles spends all of a week showing up at Hale Books daily and not doing anything but ordering coffee with lots of sweetener and staking cashier guy. He would be studying, except there is caffeine in his general vicinity and caffeine plus Stiles equals no learning ever.

(In retrospect, maybe coming to Hale Books wasn’t the best choice if he wanted to pass his classes this year, but whatever.)

It turns out that the girl who works at the little café thing is named Erica, and she’s sort of amazing in an evil, will bite your head off sort of way. She’s makes really good coffee, at least. Also she may have caught on to Stiles crush in the first couple of days. 

That went something like this.

“You’ve got a crush on the boss.” She leaned across the counter, and Stiles could pretty much see down her shirt. Erica was a very attractive woman, with a very attractive chest area. Stiles was not sure how to feel about that.

“What? No I don’t.”

“Yeah you do. You want the bosses dick, it’s really fucking obvious.” He wouldn’t have responded to her at all, except she was holding his coffee away from him, in a perfect example of her manipulative abilities. 

Amazingly evil.

“I don’t, I just…” He stopped. Arguing would do him no good, not if she had already noticed. “Okay, yeah I do. Only a little though.” 

She handed him his coffee, like he was a dog who had earned a reward. “Not just a little, but I’ll let it slide.” Her smile actually terrified him.

Let’s just make it clear here. Stiles never meant for this to turn into anything bigger than him spending an hour watching the guy read some angsty novel. 

It escalated because of Lydia, of course. Always Lydia.

4

Anyone else would have seen it coming a mile away. But we have established that Stiles is lacking in common sense, and therefore does not have the ability to see anything coming a mile away, especially not something planned by Lydia.

They’ve all collected in Allison and Lydia’s dorm room for what has been dubbed “a mandatory meeting.” Mostly they’re in the girls dorm room because Jackson and Stiles don’t clean up after themselves and although Scott and Danny do, Lydia absolutely refuses to pass through the door. She won’t say why, but Stiles secretly believes that Lydia has a dirty clothes detector and Scott hides old socks under his bed to keep her away.

It seems the only logical explanation. 

So they all came to this little meeting, and for the longest time, they all just sat in a circle on the floor and passed around a king-size bag of Skittles (keeping it out of range of Stiles hands because they are all evil and also value their well-being). 

Lydia spoke up first. “So Allison and I have been talking and we decided that we need to meet this mystery guy Stiles won’t shut the Hell up about.” 

Stiles made a sound he thought very well mimicked a dying fish and flopped to his side, landing in Danny’s lap and making a grab for the bag of Skittles as he did so. Danny, of course, being awesome at almost everything, passed them to Scott quickly, before Stiles could reach them. Danny was decidedly not awesome when it came to helping a bro out.

“What are you talking about guys,” he squeaked once he had gotten himself righted. “There’s no reason for that. I’m perfectly fine watching from a distance. Watching from a distance is great, actually. You can really appreciate someone’s hair once you’re far enough away that they’re face has gotten sort of blurry.”

Danny gives him a look that’s a mix between ‘you’ve got to be shitting me’ and ‘I have no clue what I’m doing breathing the same air you’ve been breathing.’ “I agree with the girls. We’ve got to make sure he’s not a creeper. Or worse, one of those guys who ends up convinced you aren’t deep enough for them. I’ve dated one of those. Never again.”

Allison was much too entertained by this, Stiles could tell. He had really liked her, too. “Danny is right, Stiles. This guy should be good for you, he needs to deserve you. And I don’t think you’re that great of a judge of character, I really don’t”

The world was plotting against him. The universe was plotting against him. This had been predestined. By the fates. Yeah. 

“I’m not going to ask him out or anything, I thought we had made this perfectly clear. I am perfectly happy admiring from afar. And I do mean admiring, you should see that mans beautiful, beautiful arms, I swear to God.”

There was a groan from the group, and Stiles clamped his lips shut with two fingers. “Sorry.”

“As I was saying,” Allison continued, giving Stiles a long suffering look. “This guy needs to be healthy and all, and who better to make sure of it than your friends?”

“I’m not his friend,” Jackson growled.

No one bothered kicking him this time.

5

The day was a Monday, and the sky was clear and sunny. Clearly, every person who controlled the universe was sitting around with big bags of popcorn and those giant soda cups, laughing and mocking his pain. Hell, he would be mocking his pain too, if he controlled the universe. It was pretty fucking hilarious, hardy har har.

The entire group had come, including Danny, even though he had a test to study for. They all stood outside the store for a moment when they arrived. Jackson was the first to speak, because Jackson was that sort of asshole. “This place has got to be the most pretentious thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Well okay then!” Stiles whirled around. “Let’s all head back. We can get that sushi you love Lydia, and some Starbucks, I think we passed one on the way. There’s no need for this.”

“No, no, no,” Lydia protested, grabbing his shirt sleeve and tugging him behind her. “Now I’m curious, we’ve got to go in.”

Stiles slapped his forehead so hard that his head began to throb slightly. Inside, he could see Mr. McGrumps staring at them like he had found a stray group of cats outside his respected establishment. Such was his life.

The little bell above the door- which Stiles had always thought was very cute and Jackson sneered at- tinkled when they walked in, and Mr. McGrumps shook his head and went back to whatever novel he had open on the counter. Erica smiled in a monstrous way from her post, and Stiles coughed. Really loudly, breaking the very nice silence that had existed a minute ago like the dork he was.

Because no one had any couth, they all looked at him. 

“Hey Stiles,” Lydia announced loudly. “I’m going to go check out the books over there.” She gestured to the other side of the store. “You wait for me by the counter and don’t go anywhere, okay? Come on guys.”

“But I don’t want to go,” Scott protested. “Why do I-“

Allison pecked him on the lips. “Shut up honey. Come along.”

With a low murmur, the group drifted off, and Stiles was left alone. He considered following them, but if there was one thing Lydia never hesitated to do, it was get back at people who disobeyed her, and he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that punishment. 

So, because he was never one to do the smart thing, like, say, just stand there and wait for them to return, he walked up to the counter. Mr.McGrumps didn’t seem to notice him, or he really didn’t care, which, if you asked Stiles, was just bad customer service. He wore a name-tag, though, that read Derek Hale. 

Huh. Stiles liked Mr. McGrumps better. 

“So then,” he said, leaning up against the counter without falling, a move that he thought totally earned him at least ten point in awesome. At least. “Derek Hale, huh? I’m Stiles, by the way .”

Complete silence.

“You own this place? Because it’s pretty cool, if you like bookstores.”

“You’ve been coming here for two weeks. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that you like bookstores.” Derek didn’t look up, but Stiles counted it as a win anyway. 

“Yeah, actually, I really do. I mean, there’s a certain awesome about a store. For books. Also, this place has coffee, which I love, so you know.”

“Uh huh.”

Most people would take this as a cue to shut up. Stiles didn’t take cues, nor was he most people.

“So how about that girl you’ve got serving drinks? She’s kind of like a gorgon, isn’t she? I mean she’s really attractive if you just keep looking at her at eye level, but if you look up… No wait okay that is not a good comparison at all, oh my God that is the worst comparison, there is nothing wrong with her hair, don’t tell her I said that, okay? Please?” He was rambling, obviously, but his mouth would not stop moving and making sound.

Then, something miraculous happened. Derek Hale, the guy Stiles had dubbed Mr. McGrumps for grumpy, non-happy related reasons, smiled. It was a tiny smile, hardly anything at all, but it was enough ammunition for Stiles.

They ended up talking for an entire fifteen minutes, while Stiles friends looked around and got confections from Erica, who spent the whole time sneering at them. Or well, Stiles talked, mostly, and Derek listened and occasionally offered a grunt or “hm-mmm” in recognition. Stiles talked about his dad, and his major, and books, because that seemed to be a topic they had in common. Derek never did say as many words at one time as he had in that first sentence, but it wasn’t too bad.

Even though Derek didn’t do anything but nod when Lydia came and collected Stiles, he still counted the whole endeavor as a win. Of course, he wasn’t going to tell Lydia that, or she would get ideas.

6

The next day, Stiles went back to the bookstore. 

Derek wasn’t there. He panicked for a second, until he realized that people took days off. The fact that Hale Books was lacking a Hale probably had nothing to do with him.

He left early anyway

7

The next day, Mr. Hale was back, as were the butterflies in Stiles stomach. Jeez, he had forgotten how awful those things were.

When he walked in, first thing he did was go up to Erica and order a tall coffee, with lots of sugar. 

“You’re a moron,” Erica told him.

“Am not,” he replied, taking a huge gulp of his drink that singed his throat and felt really fucking good.

“Are too. If you ask him out, I swear on the grave of someone important that he would say yes.”

“Shut up.”

For a terrifying moment, her expression changed to something that foreshadowed such pain it hit Stiles in his gut. And then she called out, “Hey Boss, Stiles here says he wants to go out with you.”

Stiles flailed, spilling his incredibly hot coffee all over his shirt, and Derek fell out of his chair. Erica laughed like the demon spawn she was.

“Erica! What the Hell?” Stiles had really like this shirt too. He had lovingly referred to it as Plaid Pete, and had served a full life, may it rest in peace. Also the skin on his chest. He had really like that too, and now it was completely singed off his body.

“Well, you do, and I’m getting really fucking tired of playing match-make. It’s not in my contract and I shouldn’t have to do it.”

Derek picked himself up from the floor, giving them a glare that would have melted ice. Neither of them flinched, except maybe Stiles, a little. “It’s not your job to play matchmaker, because there is no matchmaking to be done. Stiles, I’m sure, doesn’t want to go out with me,” he called, managing to regain some of his dignity as he sat down again.

Stiles had no dignity left. It was really a crying shame.

Stiles had been reaching for the napkins when Derek said that, but he flinched, and dropped the two he had been holding. Erica’s eyes, he thought to himself, are going to get stuck in the back of her head if she rolls them anymore.

“Okay, so see. I’m not, let’s say, against going out with you. Like if you wanted to go on a date, I would in no way be opposed to the idea. I may even encourage it a little. You know, if you wanted, which I’m sure you don’t.” Stiles managed to get his hands on a couple tissues and dabbed at his top, which was already growing cold and stiff.

Derek’s face was kind of like that of a dog who couldn’t find a toy, except way better looking. “You wouldn’t?”

With a groan, Erica threw her hands in the air and stomped up to him. “Listen, moron. You guys like each other in that way two not-straight-guys can do. Either get together or get out because I have had it up to here with the both of you idiotic bastards.”

If he was going to do this, Stiles might as well go out. He had nothing left to loose, since his dignity was dead and gone by now. “Will you, Derek Hale, very attractive man and owner of this fine company, go out on a date with me, Stiles Stillinski, college student and owner of nothing but a shitty toaster?” 

“Don’t over-do it,” Erica hissed, but Stiles couldn’t hear her over the sound of his heart beating as Derek nodded.

8

They went to the diner for their first date. Scott and Allison and Lydia tagged along, and Stiles couldn’t care less. Derek ordered a huge burger and gave Stiles his pickle. They had similar tastes in music, both liked winter best, and Derek claimed that he found Stiles very attractive.

So maybe his roommate was a jerk, and his best friend a bit on the unpredictable side, but Stiles was sort of glad for it. Because he had ended up choosing Hale books as his hide away.

As they were walking home, Derek slipped his hand into the back pocket of Stiles jeans. “You want to head back to my apartment? I have it all to myself.” 

Stiles giggled a little. Kissed him. 

“You guys are gross,” Scott called out from behind them.

There wasn’t any need to dignify that with a response.


End file.
